


Sibling Rivalry

by Littlebiscuits



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Caught in the Act, M/M, Rough Sex, Secret Relationship, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 10:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16262528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlebiscuits/pseuds/Littlebiscuits
Summary: Rook knows that the Resistance expect him to deal with the Seeds. Though he's fairly sure this isn't how they expected him to do it.





	Sibling Rivalry

Rook thinks he can be forgiven for being distracted. He has the sweat-damp length of John Seed's waist in his hands, falling away where he's folded forward onto his arms on the bed. Rook's watching the slow flex of his spine every time he drives in, and he can feel every shaken noise he pushes out of him. But Rook's also tilted in exactly the right direction to see the door swing open, to see the figure suddenly set in the frame. He stops moving, nails digging into skin, and sucks a panicked breath. 

It takes another few seconds for John to make a throaty, annoyed noise.

"Why the fuck did you stop, I was -" 

Rook knows the exact moment John catches sight of his brother in the doorway, because he tenses, and that's an interesting sensation to try not to react to.

"Fuck," John says simply. Which is something of an understatement.

Rook's looks to the right, to where he'd left his rifle propped against the window.

"No one's that fast," Jacob tells him, because the man sees everything, and Rook knows he's right, but he's still considering it, still tilting his body in that direction. It's fairly instinctive at this point. "Though feel free to test your luck," Jacob adds, and he's almost smiling now, like he wants Rook to try. Jacob has set himself against the frame, filling it, and making an obvious point about Rook's inability to leave without having to go through him.

John sighs and shoves Rook back, until he slips out of him. He looks breathless and annoyed, arousal still starkly obvious.

"What are you doing here?" he asks tightly. "This is my territory."

Rook moves to the end of the bed, gets a foot on the floor. Jacob's eyes cut sideways, letting Rook know he's perfectly aware of what he's doing.

"Please." Jacob gestures at him, and there's an amused bend to his mouth now. "Don't let me interrupt. I believe you were plowing my little brother."

"You kind of ruined the mood," John says flatly, before Rook can speak. "You couldn't have waited ten minutes? Or knocked at least"

Rook has no idea how exactly this is going to play out, if a quick exit out the window is going to be necessary here. He's not a fan of being naked while Jacob's fully clothed, of being visibly aroused while Jacob's fully clothed, which is about as vulnerable as you can get, in front of a man who's obsessed with other people's weakness. But Hope County seems to have broken his ability to have appropriate reactions to things, especially appealingly solid, dangerous things like Jacob Seed. Rook has never been very good at resisting temptation, which he's proven already by sleeping with John, on a somewhat regular basis. God help him.

"Interesting interpretation of the 'no fornication' rule, John," Jacob says, though there's more amusement than disapproval in the comment.

Rook can't see John's expression properly from where he is, but whatever is on his face makes Jacob's smile stretch. Which Rook can't help being annoyed about, because he knows how badly John's torn between his own needs, and following his brother's impossible demands.

"You don't give a shit about the rules, Jacob," John says. He doesn't seem overly bothered by being naked in front of his brother, every tattoo and every scar, from bright red to long faded, is on display for everyone to see.

"Still, I'd have expected you to at least make a token attempt at following them. Rather than let yourself be tempted." Jacob's eyes moves to Rook, considering. "Or is it the other way around, did you set a trap and catch yourself a Deputy?"

Jacob makes an interested noise, looks Rook up and down, which does absolutely nothing to solve Rook's current problem. There's no suggestiveness there, it's just aggressive appreciation, judging how well Rook would fit whatever purpose Jacob needs him for. And Rook can't help the way that tugs at his nerves.

"Maybe I should see what all the fuss is about?" Jacob comes closer, still relaxed, or doing a damn good job of making it look like it. He smells like outside, all wild animals and steel, broader the closer he gets, two inches taller than Rook in his boots. This should feel dangerous, should feel like something he needs to stop. Because Jacob Seed is exactly as dangerous and complicated as his brother. But the undercurrent here doesn't feel like violence, it feels more like a negotiation. "You think John would mind sharing, Deputy Rook?" 

And that is - that is something Rook did not expect.

"Jacob," John says, voice gone scratchy at the suggestion, but still conflicted, like he's trying to work out if this is a step too far.

"Oh, I don't think Rook would mind," Jacob says, he sounds approving, as if this has potential, a test he wants to give personally. Rook doesn't miss the way that makes John's fingers dig into his waist from behind, breath a flare of heat against his back. 

He's pretty sure John doesn't mind either.

"Did you think about it?" Jacob asks him, curiously. "When I had you strung up in a room in the dark. When I had you in a cage. Did you think about how _obedient_ you could be? How I could make you useful?"

Rook had thought about a lot of things, maybe not then, maybe not in that small room with the smell of dogs, and misery, and death, but later, later when Jacob's demands had gone red-edged, when Rook remembered the thick spread of his thighs in a chair, the way Jacob had sounded when Rook had done exactly what he'd wanted, the easy obedience of his men. 

Yes, he'd thought about it, and Jacob sees it, he sees it and it makes his expression tip slowly but obviously from teasing to hunger.

"What do you say, Deputy, are you willing to _accommodate_ me?" Jacob's slash of a smile is still at least fifty percent threatening. But it's a good smile, and Rook can't help but picture it, of saying yes to this, giving Jacob permission to take what he wants, to put Rook down and _use_ him. This threatening, unpredictable tower of contained aggression and judgement. And Rook knows damn well he shouldn't be agreeing to anything. Because John is already almost too much sometimes, but Jacob is fucking merciless. 

But the thought of it is overriding every ounce of common sense he has.

Jacob must read something in his face though, because he makes a pleased sound, head tilted like he wants to look at Rook from a new angle. Before Jacob steps close, pins him against the end of the bed, hand rough and warm on Rook's neck, mouth curved into a smile and then pressed down over his own. Jacob holds him while he kisses him, tilting and opening him, until he can press himself inside, demand Rook's participation, Rook's obedience. Which Rook gives him, opens for him and kisses back against all common sense, he takes Jacob's wet, greedy pushes, dares to reach out with a hand for the arm that's holding him, fingers digging in, almost a pull. Jacob is aggressive, he's focused, pulling and angling Rook where he wants him, but there's no violence. I promise not to break you, the kiss seems to say, not too much, not this time. Just open up for me and take it.

John sighs quietly at the display, and Rook can feel his hands sliding on the cooling skin of his waist, almost desperate, like he wants to push them together or pull himself in, like he wants to be part of this.

Jacob eases back, just far enough to breathe against his mouth. Which feels scratched, and sore, and empty.

"You're going to let me, aren't you? You're going to let me push you down on the bed and fuck you open. While you fuck my little brother."

Rook swallows a moan and thinks about it, helpless not to, of his cock pushed into John, while Jacob takes him from behind. He pictures it, ungentle, greedy, pinned between the both of them, forced to take everything they give him. Jesus, that's something he didn't even know he wanted, and now he's not sure how to want anything else.

"He wants it," Jacob says, like he thinks that might sway him. "You know he does, you can feel it. He wants to watch."

"Yes." John bites into the edge of Rook's shoulder, an admission, then a rough scrape of beard on the skin. "Say yes, Rook, please." This demand, at least, is easier to agree to than John's last. He's pretty sure no one is going to get cut open for it.

"Leave the guns by the door," he tells Jacob, and tries to make it sound more like cautious agreement than surrender, and he feels John's breath shake out in a sigh against the back of his neck.

"You think you can take me in hand to hand?" Jacob actually does as he's asked, rifle and sidearm carefully left laid on the stand by the door. Which Jacob pushes shut. It doesn't really matter, since Rook came in through the window.

"Probably not," Rook admits, wound too tightly to lie, or to make threats. "But I could make it inconvenient for you." 

Rook has never seen Jacob smile so easily. Never seen it so close. Jacob kisses him again, moves in, until Rook knocks against the bed, and there's a curl of large, rough fingers round his cock, where it's still tacky with lube, a jolt of sensation that has him gasping into Jacob's mouth.

"Fuck, don't," Rook warns him, because it's too much, the promise of it too new, and Jacob seems to understand that it's not a protest so much as a plea. Because Rook is wound tight and hot, and if Jacob expects this to happen he can't start touching him. Instead Jacob drops his jacket, crowds in close, kisses him again, hands sliding down Rook's back, to where his fingers can dig in, and spread him open like a promise.

God, yes, this is going to happen.

"Put John on his back," Jacob says roughly. "So he can watch me fuck you."

Rook can feel the cracked-apart noise that John makes, where he's still leant into his back, before he's sliding away, spreading his naked body in the sheets, tattooed hand already dragging a fistful of it in when Rook turns and promptly loses all his air at how wrecked John looks already.

Rook's not completely happy with having Jacob behind him. But the part of him that doesn't give a shit about protecting himself, about threats and caution and danger - the part of him that doesn't care about any of that, the part that wants John under him, that wants Jacob's hand on the back of his neck and his cock inside him, is the part that turns him. That's the part that coaxes him to kneel on the bed, while Jacob strips his shirt off behind him, and the heavy clank of a belt is loud in the silence.

John is fully hard again, probably has been for a while, sliding legs out of the way and throwing Jacob the bottle they left by the pillows they didn't knock off the bed. A shaken eagerness to him, that says he desperately wants this, and all the messy complication it threatens. And Rook will admit, maybe not to John, maybe not before today - that the thought of Jacob fucking him is one that has crossed his mind, more than crossed his mind while he's shoved into his own fist once or twice. Though he hadn't imagined that John would also be an active participant. That John would want to watch it happen, touch Rook while it happened, be a part of it. When ever since the beginning, John has been so aggressively determined to keep Rook for himself. 

But then Jacob is settling onto the bed behind him, knee pressing on the outside of his own, all hot skin and pointed jut of cock against the curve of Rook's ass. Rook drops a hand, holds the weight of himself and breathes while Jacob pushes and tilts him, spreads him with a thumb.

Jacob opens him with aggressive, efficient pushes, fingers large and rough, and any other time, anyone else, and Rook would probably object, hiss at the greed and impatience of it. But he wants this enough that it's just more sensation, the crowd of Jacob's warmth, the grip of his other hand on Rook's hip. John has a death grip on his own cock, where he's sprawled on the bed under him, making soft, lost sounds at every helpless movement of Rook's hips, before his eyes lock on Rook's and go dark.

"Back inside my brother," Jacob demands eventually.

Which is - fuck - which is something. John makes a gutted noise and pulls at Rook's skin.

It takes a minute to angle John's hips, to pull him where he isn't going to be crushed by the both of them. Rook should probably have fingered him open again, at least a little, because he's tight around the head of his cock when he pushes back into him, tighter when Jacob spreads Rook open, adds his own weight. Jacob's cock is wide and hot, but slick enough to breach him, the stretch of it still sharp and uncomfortable.

Rook swears, air caught behind his teeth when Jacob stretches him open like he belongs, like he's not going to stop until he's all the way inside. John's exhale is long and soft, and he's holding himself so still, fingers flexing and flexing where they've caught Rook's forearm, like he doesn't want to miss a fucking second.

Jacob's long, slow push into him presses him deeper into John - almost too much, almost too fast, all edges - and that's a confusing slice of discomfort and shivery pleasure, mangled and hot. Jacob seems to like it though, sliding one large hand into Rook's hair and closing it tight, drawing his head back so Jacob can grunt approval into his neck. He breathes there for a second, waiting for Rook to get used to the filled ache of it.

"I can't say I haven't thought of you like this." Jacob's voice, already deep enough, is now a low drag across his skin, every word punched out with a sliding thrust. "That I haven't thought about putting you in your place."

Rook makes a garbled noise that feels like agreement he can't quite get past his teeth. He refuses to give Jacob that - though the other man groans like he hears it anyway.

The rhythm is difficult to hold. Rook, driven to a halt to let Jacob fuck him, or pushed forward far enough into John that Jacob slips out with a grunt of annoyance. Until Rook is hot everywhere, stretched open and clamped around, strong hands curled over his shoulder and waist, while smaller, narrower ones grip at his forearm and hip. And being between them both, bitten into from both sides, all heat and demand for his skin and his bones, cored open and squeezed tightly at the same time. Rook's not sure how he's going to come out the other side of this the same.

John's stretched all the way out, one leg pushed up at the knee, and held in Rook's long, over-tight fingers, though he doubts Jacob is enjoying the view as much as he is. Even if Rook's enthusiasm for it does make Jacob drag his hips back, pulling him almost all the way out of John. And every greedy shove forward leaves John little choice but to take everything in again, deep and tight, crushed under the both of them. Though the way he's choking air and groaning out Rook's name says he's not finding it too much of a hardship.

"If I'd known you wanted this, I would have given it to you first." Jacob breathes into his neck, teeth together, cock a drag of pressure inside him, that leaves Rook groaning and pushing down into the clenching heat of John, before curving back into the stretching burn of Jacob. 

John comes first, neck stretching out, thigh tensing in Rook's hand while he breathes a long curse, and tightens, moans his way through it. Rook fucks him while it happens, until John's soft and over-sensitive, all relaxed give and glazed eyes, watching them both and moaning a vague protesting eagerness on every sliding thrust. Rook is so close, even though he's barely controlling his own thrusts, it's like a slope he's being shoved down, relentless, unstoppable. 

Until Jacob grinds down tight into him, forces him all the way into John and holds him there, before his pace quickens, short, solid, bruising stabs of need that shake the whole bed - and John's nails are so deep in Rook's skin he knows that he's bleeding. It's too much, too much of everything and Rook's left right on the edge, making high, breathless noises in his throat, while John shudders under him. And then Jacob pushes in deep, one hand curled tight around the back of Rook's neck. Jacob pins him down, holds him still, groans deep in his chest and comes inside him. Rook finally, finally, falls off the edge, spills into John, and it's a wave with jagged edges that feels like bleeding, and it's so fucking good.

Jacob pulls out slowly, but Rook murmurs complaint at the sting anyway, and the slide of a hand down his thigh might be apology, or something more complicated. Rook's more careful when he draws himself out of John, though the noise he gets is a soft echo of loss, rather than anything pained.

Rook feels Jacob leave the bed, hears him rebuckling his belt, hears the rough flare of his breathing slowly calm, until Rook can't hear it any more. But no one drags anyone else to judgement, or confession, no one gets shot, and eventually the door clicks shut again.

John pulls him in, with a lazy, exhausted sort of enthusiasm, murmuring warm, soft-edged gratitude, promising him anything he wants, and tangling their legs together. Which is strange and new, because Rook never stays. He's usually the first one to leave the bed. But he's honestly not sure if his body works at this point, and John is warm and familiar, mouth inviting enough that Rook has to touch it, thumb it open for a kiss.

He'll drag John into the shower, once his legs work, and then maybe he'll stay.


End file.
